


And so, the Romans will learn

by static_abyss



Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: Vengeance, Spartacus: War of the Damned
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 15:51:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/787778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/static_abyss/pseuds/static_abyss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The women are more dangerous than the men because they are smaller. They are quieter. They know they cannot win with brute force alone, and so they weave clever strategies, until not even size means anything to them. They learn to kill using knives, arrows, swords, spears instead of heavy axes. They watch the men and learn from them. </p><p>Then, they get better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And so, the Romans will learn

_For the female species is more deadly than the male._

I. _Mira_

The Roman soldier doesn't know the slave's name and it seems unfair that he should die at the hands of an unnamed animal. She towers above him as he lies on his back on cold earth. The light of the moon casts half her face into darkness, twists the otherwise pleasant view into a shadow of death. He tells himself that he does not fear her.

"Mira," someone shouts. "Quickly."

The slave turns away at the sound of her name. The soldier sighs his relief, but she does not go. Her eyes meet his and he pleads silently with her. There is a second where her eyes go wide with fear, as though she is remembering something that happened to her, or as if she's realized that this is Rome, that his armor represents the entire Republic and she cannot win. They will crush her. She must know for the Roman soldier sees the fear grow in her eyes, and it is with this fear that she drives her knife into his chest. He hears her snarling in rage as her knee presses into his stomach and her knife drives the life out of him. 

"What are you?" he wishes to ask. "What are you that fear does not stop you?"

He does not fear her because she has killed him. He fears her because she is afraid and it does not stop her.

 

II. _The Archer_

She served at her domina's villa and the most she can do is prepare a meal, carry a plate, or be used. She cannot lift a sword and she has never killed a man. But she is saved, by rebels and gladiators, by common house slaves like her. At the hands of these people, in a crumbling temple at Vesuvius, she learns that she can be more. 

She becomes an archer, her aim improves with each training session. When asked, she answers that it's all practice and a good teacher. What she doesn't tell them is that every mark she hits is a Roman falling at her hands. She does not share her desire to see life extinguished from those who do not deserve it. But she trains. She waits. And one day her patience is rewarded.

They come in droves, red capes flowing behind them as they climb the walls into the temple. She is on the roof, Mira and others by her side. Her fingers pull back the string on her bow, a breath so easy to take in before she releases her arrow. She watches the arrow hit one of the coming Romans. She leans over the edge of the crumbling temple roof and glares down at him. The man's eyes are deadly, fury emanating from them, and she laughs because this Roman is hers and she will kill him.

She makes sure he is watching her when she aims again. She waits for the fear in his eyes, and when her arrows embeds itself into his neck, she is glad his face has retained his terror. 

She kills many more that day and never once does she look away from their eyes. 

She is no longer their slave and it is these Romans who now fear her.

 

III. _Naevia_

The Romans know of her because she is Crixus's woman and he tore half of Rome apart in order to find her. The soldiers watch her as they cleave Crixus's head off his shoulders. What they see in her eyes terrifies them. There is a single tear rolling down her face, but no sound comes from her mouth after her first scream of anguish.

They tie her up in the middle of the battlefield and give her Crixus's head to carry. She sits with her head raised, her eyes on the distance, and does not move. They wait two days, give her no food or water, and keep her away from the others. The first day passes and she makes no sound, the look in her eyes the same. The younger Romans taunt her, ask whether they can see Crixus's head, but she makes no answer. On the second day, the Romans no longer try to speak to her because her silence isn't one of mourning. She does not speak, but the soldiers hear volumes. 

On the third morning, they tie her to a horse, give her Crixus's head, and send her on her way. She towers above them for a moment, her head falling sideways with the weight of her hunger and thirst, and still, she does not break. The Romans are glad that she will be on her way because they feel her presence heavy on their back, like fingers crawling up their spines. She looks back one last time as the horse starts trotting.

The Romans see death in her eyes and they are afraid.

 

IV. _The Spectator_

The Romans should fear her person, because even though she sits on the steps and does not fight in Spartacus's gladiator games, she is dangerous. She watches, eager for blood to spill in the name of the fallen, but more so because she wishes these Romans and others like them dead. She drinks water flavored with wine and cheers with the others around her, hugs those next to her in celebration.

Her spirit is what these Romans should fear, what they have learned to fear even though they do not know it. It is her unwavering desire to see them all dead, to see them falling before her as she sits above them. She is not their executioner, but she is the witness. The Romans that lie dead before her are not the first she has seen, and they will not be the last. She will bear witness as Rome trembles under the feet of thousands of free men.

She will tell their story. Her words will carry to the ears of those who are yet enslaved. She will tell her children, and her children's children. She will not let this story die and so, years from this day, they will still speak the name Spartacus, and though they may forget her name, they will remember her. She is the spirit of freedom. She is the fire that burns with desire to see the chains gone, and as long as someone desires freedom, they will remember her.

This is why the Romans fear her.

 

V. _Saxa_

The Romans don't know what to call her, but they fear her because she moves with purpose, her knives hacking down man after man. Her blonde hair catches the light of the midday sun and shines with it even as her face twists with rage, her skin red with blood. She is Diana, fury written on her face, wilderness etched into the folds of her armor, her tongue able to communicate with the animals around her.

Three Romans circle her. The first to approach, a young boy recently turned a man, is the first to die. She cuts them down, bathes in their blood, and cries to the heavens. Wild and vicious, she fights. And though these Romans led by Crassus do not fear the Gods, they fear this Diana. 

By the end of the day, the Romans will see her fall aided by swords forged from stronger steel. She will lie in a pile of blood and none will be able to tell if it is hers or the blood of all the Romans she killed. They will burn her body along with the other rebels and forget her name. But the scars she left behind on Roman skin will linger. And every Roman who watched her fight will remember the blonde Diana. 

 

VI. _The Rest_

This is what the Romans learn.

The women are more dangerous than the men because they are smaller. They are quieter. They know they cannot win with brute force alone, and so they weave clever strategies, until not even size means anything to them. They learn to kill using knives, arrows, swords, spears instead of heavy axes. They watch the men and learn from them. 

Then, they get better.

This is why the Romans fear them. 

They come at the Roman soldiers mixed in with the men, and at first, the Romans think it will be easy. But the women fight men twice their size, cut down those larger still. They carry swords, and shoot arrows, and die. And, even though they die, they take down many more men with them until having more numbers means nothing for the Romans. 

This is what the Romans remember.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a day or two ago when I was supposed to be working on essays and things, and because I couldn't make today's post for Young Volcanoes, I give you this. This is intended as a fill for [this](http://spartacus2010.livejournal.com/432545.html?thread=2590113#t2590113) prompt over at the Spartacus annual kink meme.


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